


Goretober Day 5: Flowers

by GrassyOrchards



Series: Gore/Inktober 2020 [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Emotional Repression, M/M, Memories, Mourning, Unspecified apocalyptic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26945551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrassyOrchards/pseuds/GrassyOrchards
Summary: *Repost from Gore/Inktober oneshot masterpost*"Of all the places to find a familiar face."
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed
Series: Gore/Inktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966237
Kudos: 3





	Goretober Day 5: Flowers

_"At least the sunsets are still pretty."_

Of all the places to find a familiar face. 

Gavin pauses, hands caked in dirt and unknown filth. The decrepit crumbling buildings of Detroit frame him, casting dusty shadows across his form. A single ray of pale yellow light frames his palms, and the flowerbed before him, slipping between shattered windows as the sun dips below the unseen horizon. 

How unfortunate. 

Half buried in dirt, with most of it's body covered in holes and torn to pieces from scavengers, was the RK900 partner Gavin had lost nearly two decades ago. It had obviously been here for a long time, flowers(none Gavin could name, what use did a man like him have for such knowledge?) of warm sunset colours sprouted through it's body. They curled around wires, and sprouted cautiously between mounds of dirt trapped beneath layers of shattered biocomponents. Two even sprung from the hollow place where its right eye had been, though the rest of its face was mostly untouched. It was hauntingly beautiful.

Nines, he had called it. Though he supposed Tincan could have just as easily been it's name. It had been many years since he thought back to his days as a detective, much less his partner. Nines had infuriated him at first, of course, but despite being an android it had grown on him. They were quite the team when it came down to it. They served the force for 2 years together, then 5 more when the world ended. They even fought less when they truly relied on each other. Tooth and nail, plastic and flesh, they fought everyday to survive in a world that didn't want them to. 

_He remembers holding his hand, bottle of rum in the other as they look out across the city. The sunset pours over them, legs dangling off the edge of one of the few skyscrapers still standing, far above the layer of rolling dust that coated the surface. "We're gonna die, in fuckin Detroit." The words were spat bitterly. Nines pauses, staring at him and seeming to consider what to say. His gaze turns to the sunset and he hums, a painfully human sound._

_"Did you think we'd die anywhere else?"_

He hadn't really known if it died. One day it was just gone, no note, no finality, no purpose. He hadn't known what to think then. He certainly didn't know what to think now. He pats it down, _gently_ , to see if there is anything of use to him. A pen in its torn pocket, and, clutched tightly in its hand is a pocket knife. He was surprised it was still there. 

_"You'll need to defend yourself. People out here are getting crazier by the day. We won't have bullets soon, and I doubt we'll be able to reliably find more." He waits for an excuse, some speech about how Nines was a high powered android with the most advanced programs and blah blah blah… But to his surprise he just smiles, and takes the small blue blade gently. He holds it up, eyeing it, cataloguing its every edge to memory. Gavin tries to memorize his expression as well, gentle appreciation that still sometimes haunts his most repressed dreams._

_"Thankyou."_

He pockets it, and silently wishes he had stayed out of Detroit. He had stayed away for so long(the second he decided he wouldn't find Nines he had left, Detroit had nothing for him without Nines), but came crawling back. For what? Closure? He certainly had it now, but the hollow ache that reopened in his chest made him doubt if he even wanted it to begin with. Weakness was a terrible, terrible thing. But he was getting old, especially for this new world, so he supposed closure and a bit of weakness was better than dying with more questions.

He stands, stares down at the ever preserved face, the flowers, then walks away.


End file.
